Jun 2008

I saw some ruins outside of Samaipata the next day. A pre-Inca site with ceremonial figures carved into a huge slab of rock, El Fuerte. I Walked back to town - beautiful countryside - mandarin orange country.
I tried to buy a overnite 2nd class ticket to Sucre (about 12 hours), but all were sold out so I bought 3rd class. I thought the ride would be terrible so I went to the local pharmacy staffed by a 15-year old Bolivian girl. I asked for something to help me sleep on the bus. Two options, both prescription strength: mild or strong. Strong, of course.
Waited at a restaurant and met some Australians. The bus was an hour late and was absolutely packed. There were people riding in the luggage compartments in the bottom of the bus. I quickly hopped aboard and left my book on the counter at the restaurant. Fuck. I have a problem with losing things lately.
Stopped for a greasy dinner.
Party Time.
Took one - felt good - hung my head out the window like an jubilant dog. Shot some photos of complete darkness. This isn't working - I need another.
After this I remember only fragments of the night. Had hiccups at some point. Got out to pee wearing my headlamp in the middle of nowhere. Wrote something in my journal. Next thing I definitively remember is a policeman on the bus asking me for my papers.
"Gracias, David Hixon"
"And a good day to you, sir"
Arrived in Sucre - the Australians had arrived on another bus - they had my book!
Today - dinosaur tracks. Tomorrow is election day.

P.S. The following is what I wrote in my journal - atleast what I can make of it:

The bus is full of anomalies. I have the hiccups. Things are going quickly outside. We must keep a calm positive and enjoy the progressive workings of our truck trip.

Saw a giant gopher cleaning out its burrow. Saw Santa Claus disguised in the trees.

Hi
Hippopotamus Rocks

Hiccups
Richeousness of river crossing?

Great Eagle commands
- size of one tree

The stars were like wadded beautiful wallpaper of death - bonewhite plants grasping for sunlite.

Lament Women as
shrub

Hiccups!

I recovered quickly from my illness and was ready to get out of La Paz. I had been there for 4 days at the time of my departure. I hopped on an overnite bus to Santa Cruz - a city that is the jumping off point for exploration into the surrounding jungles and continuing journeys to the pantanal of Brazil. The bus was fine other than some 7 AM, wake-up, latino rock. Santa Cruz was sunny and warm - a nice departure from the high-elevation, cold of the rest of Bolivia.
When I arrived I went straight to a mini-bus colectivo stand to catch one to the small town of Samaipata. A small pueblo known for several reasons: UNESCO ruins, gateway to Amboro national park, proximity to the site Che Guevara`s death.
I met a strange Swiss woman and her tiny dog at the Samaipata taxi stand. She was a self-proclaimed "Modern Che." She fought with the colectivo drivers for a lower fare and, when rebuffed, convinced me to come with her to find a lower fare to Samaipata. She talked a thousand words a minute in Spanish at me.
Found a lower fare. Showed me pictures of Che done with Eucalyptus leaves. She proclaimed "Me encanta niños (I love children)" as she awkwardly tried to give some coins to a child washing his father`s car - a reward? a handout? She chastised a local woman who threw her trash on the sidewalk. Everyone just stared at her in disbelief. I didn`t want to be associated with this woman.
On the road to Samaipata now.
Stopped. A landslide had blocked the road. Everyone piled out and faux-Che found some fellow Fench speakers. She cursed the Bolivian people as worthless. What is this Chihuahua-toting, idealistic, communist-wanna-be doing here and why am I stuck next to her?
Arrived. Thank you Jesus.
Samaipata is a beautiful town of 3000 residents, nestled in the Cordillera Oriental. There are, of course, a few Germans living here and even a couple of Texans. Their accent warmed the cockles of my heart.
I went with a group of Americans to the nearby Parque Nacional Amboro - a huge tract of land with some of the last untouched cloud forests in the world. Giant fern trees and wild guinea pigs. Like a Jurassic Forest - minus the Goldblum.

The last days in tupiza were spent mulling about with Mariano and Lucas (argentineans) and Eilleen and Joel (Aussie/Brit). We all hopped a bus to La Paz because they were headed for Peru and La Paz was the only other place I could go at the moment. All the other roads were still blocked. I overdressed for the bus ride, assuming it would be, like everything else in Bolivia, unheated. Dead wrong. I baked like a clam under my 6 layers of clothing as the woman behind me courteously adjusted my lumbar with her feet.
It was in the middle of this hellish experience that I began to feel sick. By the time I stepped off the bus 12 hours later in La Paz, I knew things were going to get worse. I quickly said goodbye to my travelmates (who I'll be meeting again in cuzco) and took an offer by a hostel hawker. Made the trek to the hostel and got an ubelievable deal - private room with cable TV and breakfast for 7 dollars. I was going to need the comfortability. I spent the next two days in bed (with the exception of a doctor's visit) dry heaving and familiriazing myself with the bathroom decor. The homecall doctor was busy treating a cocaine overdose so I found another doctor who diagnosed me with either salmonella poisoning or gastrointestinal staphylococcus infection. yikes. Never been so ill in my life.
I'm pretty sure it was that medium-rare llama steak I ate in Uyuni.

The next to last day of the desert tour our group stayed in a hotel on the edge of the salar de uyuni - at 7,000 sq. miles the world's largest salt flat. We were all glad to finish somewhat early that day because the two previous days had been long. Ou guides took us to some lovely sites but were always hustling us to leave as soon as we arrived.
That night was the 18th, the day before my birthday - the Argentineans and English/Aussie wanted to stay up until 12 to celebrate it even though we were leaving the following morning at 5 to catch the sunrise.
We met several groups of English in our hostel - one small group of very cool girls and the other a massive group of 20-somethings. I can only describe them as English frat boys and sorority sisters.
I tried not to drink much because of our early departure time - but my travel mates didn't help. Eventually, I found myself outside in the sub-zero temperatures at 4 in the morning with no shoes on. A move I like to call "The Nathan Christ". Finally, I headed back to bed at 4:45 AM and set my alarm for 5 AM. I, of course, awoke disoriented and just as drunk as I was 15-minutes earlier. I accidentally took someone else´s coat, crawled into the car and witnessed the most beautiful sunrise I've ever seen. We finished the day in Uyuni at a train graveyard.
I'm in La Paz now, a city out of a dream/nightmare, all other roads to other cities are closed because of mining prostests. I'm sick again.